6 years old:

Mrs Smith looked at the little girl adoration shone through her eyes. She was the perfect student: Quiet, respectful and bright, maybe a bit too bright to be honest. Little miss Potter just seemed to understand most things instinctively. The only thing that concerned her was the distance between Potter and the rest of the children. She knew it was partly because of her brute of a cousin, he scared everyone away from her by beating them up if they even thought about interacting with her. But that wasn't all, it almost seemed as if Alexandra tried to avoid the other children. She never initiated contact with them instead she let out an air of aloofness as if she was worth more than the other children.

When Mrs Smith thought about it Alexandra did that to her teachers as well. She had more than once felt that the child thought her inferior. Then again this might just be a figment of her imagination.

One thing, however, was clear: No matter how much the other children tried to ignore Alexandra they couldn't. She was always there, one could feel her presence in a room.

Now Mrs Smith admitted that the child possessed an uncanny beauty even if she looked a bit frail. Her eyes were slightly slanted and were a bright electric green, her hair fell in soft black curls framing a beautiful, almost aristocratic, face. Where the girl had gotten her looks from was a wonder to Amanda Smith, though. If the girl's mother had been anything like her aunt Amanda simply couldn't understand where this beauty came from.

Yes, her beauty was remarkable, but that wasn't the reason you couldn't ignore her. Her mere presence simply demanded attention.

Amanda knew that something was wrong with Alexandra at home, she wore ill-fitting clothes while her cousin was dressed in expensive clothes and she flinched whenever someone touched her.

Amanda Smith pitied the beautiful child but what was she supposed to do? She was but a teacher.

.

.

Alexandra felt Mrs Smith looking at her, a small sneer crossed her lips. What a despicable human being she was. Alexandra knew the teacher knew, how could she not know? The signs of abuse were clear, yet the teacher never did anything but look at her in pity. She never called the police or got social workers to look into Alexandra's situation.

In conclusion: Mrs Smith was just as bad as the neighbours and Alexandra abhorred her just the same. She was careful though, she had become good at wearing masks, covering up her disdain and hatred with a mask of childish respect and wonder

If her teacher wasn't going to be her gateway out of hell then she had to create her own.

6 years old:

The opportunity to get away from hell presented itself later that year on a rainy November day. That particular day she had been beaten up badly for making the potatoes peel themselves instead of doing it herself. Dark bruises covered all of her body except for her face. They always stayed clear of her face since it would attract unwanted attention.

She had now sneaked out of the house for no apparent reason, she just wanted to be alone.

So there she sat, on a bench in the local park, freezing and filled with bitterness. What Alexandra didn't know was that she was being watched.

.

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Caroline had had a long day at work. She was self-employed, working as the CEO of a bigger child model agency, and usually loved her work. The last couple of months, however, had been hellish. She sighed, the firm desperately needed someone who wasn't just beautiful but special. Someone who demanded attention. Right now they had a large collection of mediocre models but there wasn't anyone who stood out.

Every good agency needed a "star" and their old one, Maria, had just transferred to the movie industry.

Caroline sighed once more and then looked up at the sky. If she wasn't an atheist now would be the time she prayed to God for some girl with talent to appear.

Suddenly Caroline heard a cough, which ripped her out of her thoughts, she looked around trying to find the source. Her eyes stopped once they saw a little girl sitting on a bench in the rain. Her breath hitched in her throat: There she was, the girl her model agency so desperately needed. She was wearing ratty clothes that clung to her frail body and was covered in bruises but she was absolutely stunning. Her black hair stuck to her pale face. Caroline analysed the girls face: A perfect little button nose, red pouty lips, high cheekbones, beautifully arched eyebrows and the most striking eyes she'd ever seen.

If Caroline had been a wizard she would've called the eye color avada kedavra green, but she wasn't. Yet it wasn't the beauty that made the girl attractive it was her presence. The way she carried herself with a grace she had previously thought impossible for a child so young.

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Alexandra looked up when the rain stopped pouring down on her. Above her was an umbrella, it's owner was an elegant blonde. She studied the woman in front of her. She had to be in her mid-thirties, the dark circles underneath her eyes weren't totally hidden by her concealer which indicated she was a career woman. She didn't look like the maternal type and the hungry glint in her eyes made Alexandra think she wanted something from her.

"I have an offer for you child," nope definitely not the maternal type. Alexandra felt a feral grin spread across her face.

"And what would that be, miss..?" The child's voice was surprisingly husky.

"Miss Miller."

"Ah," she chuckled a little, "now tell me, miss Miller, what would this offer be?"

She saw Miller take a deep breath as if she was afraid. Her grin became even bigger. This was quite amusing.

"I-I wanted to know if you've ever considered modelling," oh yes, very amusing. This could be her chance to get away from her family.

Caroline gasped as the child's face switched from demonic to angelic. Her eyes that had been calculating was now filled with childish wonder and innocence. It was very convincing. Caroline actually thought she could be nothing but innocent and forgot everything about the cheshire grin the child had sported just a moment ago.

"I would like that very much miss Miller, but I'm not sure my relatives would approve… They never want me to be happy." Her sad tone of voice made Caroline tear up. Who would ever harm such a beautiful child?

"We'll fix that, come with me, child."

And the child followed her, what else was she supposed to do? Go back to her violent relatives?